


Burned Out Stars (They Shine So Bright)

by blanchtt



Series: Future Starts Slow [1]
Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 12:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blanchtt/pseuds/blanchtt
Summary: When Felix is placed with her, it’s one of the happiest days of her life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to Reagan's idea of a genderfluid Sarah, which turned into this.

 

 

 

When Felix is placed with her, it’s one of the happiest days of her life. A bit silly to think so, Siobhan is half-sure, given all she’s done - things that _matter_ , things that make her mother proud, the two of them raising hell together and changing history. But she can’t help but feel it anyway as the small, shy boy lets her take his hand, lead him around the house wide-eyed and silent until she gets to the bedroom she’s made up just for him.

 

The bed's got a dark-blue duvet, freshly washed, and the floors are swept and clean, but it's not _his_ yet. But the transition is easy, and Felix settles in nicely. The silence and wariness of the first few days become a thing of the past, easily forgotten as he blossoms into himself, and as she herself realizes it's not just Siobhan anymore, but Siobhan-and-Felix. It's a nice change.

 

She hadn’t been prepared for a willowy young boy that preferred to hang onto her sleeves and cook with her or that spent quite so long getting dressed in the morning before school, though. Not that it makes a whit of difference. She’d had no preference for sex or age or race, and the agency had simply offered a child most in need. It takes her very little time to realize that she won’t be taking Felix to football practice or teaching him to hunt.

 

The hunting is the only thing she feels like she’s missed out on - it’s her firm belief that _everyone_ should know how to shoot a gun – and that really has nothing to do with Felix or who he is as much as it has to do with his aversion to violence. And so instead of buying cleats or jerseys or skates, she scours second-hand bookstores for big, expensive, coffee-table-worthy books on art, with huge glossy pages of oeuvres by the masters. He devours them, borrows more from the library, and comes home one school day just before dark with hands flecked with spray-paint and a guilty look on his face.

 

“You’d best not get caught,” she warns from the couch, a raised brow usually all it takes to ensure Felix stays in line, and his guilty look turns quickly into a cavalier smile as he gives her a cheeky promise before running up to his room.

 

“Shan’t!”

 

 

-

 

 

Sarah comes to her like a feral cat – claws out, spitting, and intent on getting out of her house by any means necessary.

 

She’s used to toughing out difficult situations, but Siobhan almost wonders if she’s in over her head with Sarah, though not for lack of trying. Firm but loving is one thing, but if Sarah’s intent on running away, there’s not much she can do about, is there, short of locking her up? But the rough patch smooths out, slowly but surely, tempted into staying by a warm bed and good food and a loving home, and eventually Sarah stops fighting her on every little thing and instead only picks a few larger and memorable fights per month.

 

That, Siobhan can live with. And it’s amazing how Sarah wedges herself right into her heart, all too easy to love, not _despite_ as much as _because of_ the walls and the scowls, the silence and the hard look to her eyes in someone much too young to have a hard look to her eyes.

 

She never presses, but whenever Sarah feels like talking, once in a rare blue moon, she's there for her with a cup of tea.

 

With two children in the house it’s certainly more lively, and she finds she’s got a front-row seat to the fascinating interplay between Sarah and Felix. And it doesn’t take her long with Sarah, either, to realize that dolls and dresses aren’t going to fly. She finds the dress she’d bought for her (just in case she’d like something pretty to wear) a few days later in Felix’s closet as she’s putting away folded clothes, he and Sarah just about the same size for now, and realizes once again not to waste her money on assumptions.

 

They never chat about _that_ over tea, but she's not blind, can't miss the way Sarah sits and walks and talks, the attempted relationships with boys that inevitably end in scuffles and name calling and the relationships with girls that fair a little better, at least just as long as she doesn't have to pretend. And so she watches and lets Sarah be Sarah, and only then saves up, goes out, buys Sarah her very own pair of stiff black combat boots, and shows her the tricks to breaking leather in.

 

 

-

 

 

They move, and it all goes well, the three of them settling comfortably in the outskirts of Toronto. And so on the cusp of Sarah's first year of high school, Siobhan gets a call and she really can't turn down another, can she?

 

Helena comes last, and she’s so very much like Sarah, except not. There is that same wary silence that she’s seen in Felix and Sarah, a hanging-back, and where she had welcomed Felix, where she had had to coax Sarah into the family, with Helena there is the extraordinary task of convincing her to believe that she _belongs_ in theirs. 

 

Helena is the least touchy of her children (ranked, in order, as Felix, and then far below him Sarah, and far, far below her, Helena), possibly due to her formative years spent in an overcrowded orphanage abroad and extended time in foster care, and also the most startlingly quiet of the three despite excellent English. And where Felix can’t be pulled apart from his boyfriend and Sarah stays out late doing only God knows what, Helena is content to sit at home, most often simply doing her homework at the kitchen table or following her around if Sarah isn’t home.

 

It’s endearing, that someone still wants to spend time with her – sometimes it feels like just yesterday that she was helping Felix into his jumper or making lunch for Sarah – although often they will sit in silence or with her filling the void with stories from her work, from her life, or from when Felix and Sarah were smaller.

 

Those stories are the ones that interest Helena the most time and time again, which makes perfect sense as the three of them get along like a house on fire – particularly her and Sarah. If it weren’t for the hair color, Siobhan's sure if she squinted she’d lose the ability to tell the two of them apart. It doesn’t help that Felix steals Sarah’s tops, Sarah steals Felixs’ pants, and Helena steals Sarah’s _everything_ , and it dawns on her one day doing the laundry that a pair of tight boxers could be literally anyone’s.

 

The little things she does for Helena almost feel like they’re not enough, and she doesn't want to short her, but Helena asks for nothing and is so chuffed at everything that she must be on the right track. When her birthday comes up, she takes a stab at a traditional recipe she’s found online and makes Helena a cake all of her own, with a second one for she and Felix and Sarah to split, and when they all present her with it Helena grins like she’s won the lottery.

 

 

-

 

 

And it’s over time that little things slip by, that it’s really only sitting together at the table for dinner one night that Siobhan realizes how little changes have accumulated over time – Helena smiling and engaged, laughing at Felix rolling his eyes as Tony flirts shamelessly with her, Sarah looking calm and happy and laughing at something Cosima says, Cosima’s hands making reckless patterns in the air. (Sarah had traded a string of bad boyfriends for a girl with glasses and dreds vying for valedictorian of her class, and Siobhan had felt her shoulders relax, her blood-pressure drop, and breathed a deep sigh of relief that she’d no longer been in danger of becoming a grandmother before her time).

 

“Oi, mum?” Sarah interjects, and she’s brought back out of her thoughts, back to watching her daughter wave at her with that familiar crooked smile. “You still with us?" With her free hand, Sarah jerks her thumb at Cosima, asking, "Cos wanted to know the name of that building you blew up back in the day.”

 

" _I_ didn't blow it up," Siobhan states clearly, because that is _not_ what happened. She takes a bite off her plate, pauses for effect, and adds, pointing with her fork, "For the record, it was a team effort."

 

Amidst laughter, she decides that yes, those had been good times, but they were most definitely in the past. Of course, it all did good, to some extent or another, at least for their side. Siobhan grins, but she finishes eating, puts down her utensils, and leans forward on her elbows to integrate herself back into the conversation, now moved lightning-quick on to something about Cosima's club at school, and is more than sure that _this –_ all of them together in her kitchen, Felix with his wicked-sharp eyeliner and Tony watching him proudly, Sarah slouching easily, and Cosima and Helena with their heads together, no doubt planning something – is one of the most good and lasting and satisfying things she's been lucky enough to be a part of. 

 

 

 


End file.
